


At Ease Soldier

by 16woodsequ



Series: Steve Rogers Has PTSD [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Genre: Because Sam and Bucky deserve it, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Captain America Sam Wilson, Catharsis, Communication, Endgame compliant, Feels, Gen, No bad vibes today thank you, Not Anti-Steve, Post-Endgame, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam and Bucky don't blame Steve, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers ending, Steve Rogers is a considerate human being and talked to Bucky before he left, Steve Rogers needs a break, We love and support all of our Captain Americas, we may not have liked what we got but we are working with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/16woodsequ/pseuds/16woodsequ
Summary: “Does it bother you?” Sam asks.Bucky looks up. "What does?”Sam shifts and folds his arms. “What Steve did. Leaving.”Bucky’s head tilts a little as he thinks. “No,” he says finally, looking up at him. “Steve needed to go.”Sam and Bucky talk about Steve, and Sam learns more about why he left, and why Bucky doesn't blame him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson
Series: Steve Rogers Has PTSD [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124492
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58





	At Ease Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before tfatws came out, so it is mostly my hopes for how Sam and Bucky will feel.

After Steve gives him the shield, and he and Bucky learn that Steve had chosen to live out most of his life in the past, Sam thinks a lot about it. Mostly, he wonders a lot about how Bucky feels about it. There is plenty for him to work through about him, and the shield, and Captain America, and sometimes it feels good to put that all down and focus instead on Bucky.

“Does it bother you?” he asks him finally. It is a few weeks now, since Steve had come back, and it still feels a little strange. Steve is technically still around, but it is different than before. Everything is different actually. He and Bucky had spent five years being—well—dead, and the rest of the world had changed while they had been gone.

And now Natasha is dead, and Tony is dead, and Steve had changed too, in a way that will never go away.

Currently, they are camping out in Tony’s Tower in New York. Pepper had allowed all of the returned Avengers to stay there until they got their feet under them. He and Bucky could have gone back to Wakanda if they had wanted, but he had felt that, with the shield and with the slowly solidifying plans to _use_ it, he should probably stick around state-side for the time being.

Besides, he had needed to go and see his family, and learn what had happened to them while he had been gone.

Bucky had stayed in the States too, and they are both currently in the gym of the Tower. ‘Gym’ is a rather loose term for it. Like the gym in the old Compound had been, this one is expansive, and he stands next to Bucky in the shooting range portion, the man looking over the various guns available to him.

His hair is tied back in a small half-bun behind his head, and the loose ends sway as he looks up. “What does?”

Sam shifts and folds his arms, leaning against the wall next to the rack of guns. “What Steve did. Leaving.”

He himself is still coming to terms with it. He isn’t exactly angry about it, but he knows that it will still take some time to really accept what had happened. He hadn't been expecting it, and it is still a shock to think about.

Bucky’s head tilts a little as he thinks, and he looks down at his right hand resting on one of the guns on the rack. He runs his thumb over the metal and lets out a breath. “No,” he says finally, looking up at him. “Steve needed to go.”

Sam blinks in surprise, and he sees Bucky’s mouth twitch up briefly in response.

“What do you mean?” he asks, and Bucky rolls his shoulders, shaking out his hair. He crouches down to look at the guns on the lower racks, his gaze focused away from him as he speaks.

“It’s…” his lips press together, and he pulls in a breath. “I guess he wouldn’t talk about this much, not after he woke up from the ice.” He lets out a breath and looks up at him. “You’ve been in combat.” Sam nods again, and Bucky’s lips pull up in a flat smile. “I donno how similar it would’ov been to me and Steve fightin’, cuz you go on tours now, right? You know how long you’ll be out there, before you can go home for a bit.”

Sam dips his head. “Usually, yeah.”

Bucky looks down at the rack and pulls out one of the larger guns, holding it mostly for something to do, rather than actually needing to look at it. “I can’t remember everything,” he says, his eyes on the gun. “But I do know it wasn’t like that for us. We could go home when the war was over, an’ we didn’t know how long that was gonna be.”

Sam stays silent as he takes in what Bucky is saying. He had known that, of course, but he hadn't really thought about it, and he has a feeling that Bucky isn’t finished yet.

Back on the floor, Bucky pulls in a breath through his nose and puts the gun back, reaching for another one. “We would talk sometimes, when it was late, and too wet to start a fire, and all our socks were wet through and everything was muddy and miserable…all the Commandos would go around and talk about what we would do after the war.”

He shrugs. “’Course, it was mostly dreaming, and wishing, and we knew that but…” he trails off and Sam gives him a nod.

He knows those conversations. They had all had them. Riley had used to go on about the diner down the street from his place, and how he was going to get the largest burger and onion rings he could get when he got back. He imagines that, in the middle of war-torn Europe, those dreams had felt even further away for the soldiers fighting. But they had needed those dreams, because how else were they supposed to keep fighting?

Bucky keeps his eyes down and begins to disassemble the gun in his hands, looking critically at every part. “Later, sometimes, when it was just me and Steve, I’d ask him what he wanted to do after the war.” He pauses and sits on his haunches, looking out in front of himself. “I remember this well, cuz when he said this, he didn’t know I had a serum, and that I was half-terrified of anyone finding out, and I remember, he had the same fears that I had.”

Sam blinks, and Bucky looks down and continues looking over the gun as he talks. “With the serum, he wasn’t sick anymore,” he says. “After the war, he could actually live a normal life if he wanted to. He could get a job, and maybe make enough to get a better place—or maybe even go to school…” he trails off and breathes in, his hands tightening briefly on the pieces in his grip.

“’Course,” he says ruefully, flicking his eyes up to him. “That’d only work if the army or the government allowed their super soldier to walk off afterwards, with no strings attached.”

Sam’s eyes widen as he begins to see the picture Steve had been worried about, and Bucky’s mouth pulls into a thin line as he looks down and begins to piece together the gun again. “Steve didn’t want to stay in the army,” he says firmly. “I’ve seen things talkin’ about him and saying how much he wanted to be a soldier, and fight like his dad. I’ve seen them go on about him and his army career, and how much he tried to enlist…”

He scoffs, and the last piece of the gun clicks into place sharply as he shakes his head. “Steve didn’t want to be a soldier,” he says, looking up at him. “He wanted to fight, but that is _different._ He believed he should fight, and that Hitler and Hydra needed to be stopped, but he never planned on staying in the army after the war.”

Sam purses his lips as he thinks. He hadn't thought a lot about that distinction before now, but what Bucky says matches up with the Steve he knows. But, he can also see how easily Steve’s story could be—and had been—twisted by time and propaganda.

Bucky lets out a breath and looks down at his gun again. “He was worried the military wouldn’t be too keen about lettin’ him go at the end of the war,” he says. “He didn’t talk about it much, but it was a legitimate concern. Captain America was valuable, and it felt like, if we weren’t careful, Steve could get tangled up in it and get tied down once the fighting was over.”

He heaves his shoulders and puts the gun back on the rack, reaching smoothly for the next one. “And then I died,” he continues without looking up. “And then he died. And then he woke up here.” Bucky’s hand tightens on the gun for a moment, and he sighs. “I donno how much he talked to you about it, cuz he didn’t tell _me_ much about it, and for a while I didn’t remember enough to even know to think about it but…”

His mouth pulls into a slant and he looks up at him. “Now I can remember more, and I’ve seen some of Steve’s work with SHIELD, the news around his missions and things…” his jaw tightens and he looks down at the gun, his movements quick and efficient as he pulls it apart. “And it sure looks like Captain America on those screens to _me._ ”

Sam’s chin raises, and he thinks he sees what Bucky is getting at.

“Steve always planned to go home after the war,” Bucky says, his eyes on the gun. “But he couldn’t, could he? Not after the ice. And—” his voice drops, and his eyes darken. “I donno what _SHIELD_ did, but I imagine they were pretty keen on having Captain America back again, and none of them would even _know_ they were leaving Steve Rogers out in the cold.”

He lets out a sigh and the anger drains out of his face, his shoulder slumping. “And of course Steve would keep fighting,” he says quietly, his eyes distant as he fiddles a little with the pieces of the gun. “He isn’t one to give up on a fight, and he never really got the chance to try. But…” his lips pull together sadly and he slowly begins to reassemble the gun. “He had to do it as Captain America. Not Steve Rogers.”

The gun clicks into place, and Bucky sets it back on the rack. “And then he found me again,” he continues, sitting still for a moment as he thinks. “And there was all _that_ chaos.” He huffs and shakes his head. “Even after he put down the shield and we went to Wakanda, he couldn’t really relax. The whole world was still out for his head, and he had spent so long holding up the mantel of Captain America that he felt he still had to do it, even from the shadows.”

He lets out a dry chuckle that holds absolutely no humour and stands up, reaching for one of the handguns on the top rack. “Maybe if we’d had more time, he would have been able to settle into himself more, but Thanos came instead.”

Sam’s lips press together, and he already knows this part of the story. They had all been desperate to stop Thanos, as scattered and displaced as they had been. Steve had done his best to gather them and form a strategy, but Tony had already been whisked up into space, and it hadn't been long before Thanos had come and decimated everything.

In front of him, Bucky lets out a harsh breath. “Well, you know how _that_ went,” he says, his mouth twisting as he looks over the gun. “I went and died in front of Steve _again,_ and he was left without half of us for five years.”

Sam swallows. He does wonder how those years had been for Steve. There isn’t a lot of people he can ask to find out. Tony hadn't stuck around the Compound, and even if he had, he is dead now. Natasha and Steve had reportedly spent more time together, but she is dead now too, and Clint had been nowhere close. Even Thor had holed up alone among his people.

“He was alone,” Bucky continues, his eyes clouded as he looks at the gun. His gaze flicks up to him. “Just like after the ice, I imagine.” And Sam thinks of the Steve he had met while running, and has to agree.

“He didn’t even have Captain America to hang onto anymore,” Bucky says quietly, turning to set the gun back down. “And, if you think about it, my dying then was the longest I’d been dead for him, _ever._ ”

Oh. That is true. Sam hadn't thought about it that way, but when he had met Steve, he had only been living with Bucky’s death for about two years. And then Bucky had been resurrected, and Steve had spent his time trying to reconnect and deal with that. And then…just as he and Bucky were truly beginning that process, Bucky had died—in front of him _again_ —and this time he had been dead for five years.

Bucky’s eyes meet his. “You were dead too,” he says quietly. “And that must have hurt just as bad. Steve told me you were one of the first people outside of SHIELD that he had really connected with, and he lost both you and me on the same day.”

Sam’s mind goes back to the pain of losing Riley, and he knows that Steve must have been feeling that, and more. Losing Riley had been what had pushed him to leave the force and return home— His eyes widen, and his hands tighten on his arms as he looks at Bucky. He thinks he knows where he is going with this.

Bucky looks back at the rack of guns, his fingers trailing over them absentmindedly. “I don’t know everything that happened to Steve while we were gone,” he admits. “But I _do_ know what he looked like when I got back.” He looks up at him. “You wouldn’t know, because you didn’t know him before the war, but once I remembered enough, I could tell that waking up here had chipped away at Steve even more than the war had,” his jaw clenches, “and I bet you could tell that the last five years had done that even _more_ to him.”

Sam nods. “He’s not the first soldier I’ve seen who’s been burnt-out, drained.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “He was grasping at threads even before this, and the Blip took whatever else he had left. He wasn’t supposed to _fight_ for the rest of his life. He was supposed to go _home.”_

His voice raises on the last sentence, and he pulls in a breath to calm himself. “I think…” he begins softer. “I think he could have built a home here. He was trying, it was slow going, but he was trying.” He pauses and stares at the wall for a moment, before he looks back at him. “But Captain America is entrenched here. You know Steve. If he stayed here, he would never be able to stop fighting. Especially now that Stark is dead.”

Sam has to agree. Steve isn’t one to step back when problems arise, and now that Tony and Natasha are gone, he can see their absence pushing Steve into trying to fill the gap.

“But Steve didn’t want to be Captain America for the rest of his life,” Bucky says, before shaking his head. “Or at least, he didn’t plan to be the Captain America he got left with after waking up from the ice. Maybe if he’d been alive to try to help shape it, it would have been better. But while he was gone, Captain America got changed into a perfect soldier, and there were consequences if he tried to be anything different.”

Bucky lets out a breath and looks down at the guns again, picking up another handgun. “Captain America is important though,” he says, glancing up at him. “He knew that. He knew it could be more than propaganda fodder.”

Sam flicks his eyes over him. “And he gave the shield to me.”

Bucky nods, putting the gun down. “I’m sure Steve has talked to you about his reasons,” he says. “But when he first came and told me what he wanted to do, I knew it was the right decision.” Sam blinks and Bucky meets his gaze. “Steve wouldn’t be able to do with Captain America what you can do,” he says. “His history with it is too long. And, anyways, he needed a chance to just be Steve Rogers again.”

He sighs and looks down again. “But he couldn’t do that here, not easily.” He looks up. “You know him. It would be hard for him to retire fully, no matter how much he might want to. And…” he shrugs uneasily. “It’ll probably be easier for the world to accept a new Captain America if the old one isn’t around anymore.”

Sam’s lips press together. Yeah, that whole aspect of taking up the shield is going to be _fun_.

In front of him, Bucky rolls his shoulders. “Steve talked to me about going back before he left. He knew himself well enough, and he’d had five years of not being Captain America, but not really being Steve Rogers either. He wanted to give you the shield, but he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to stay out of the fight, even after that, not if he stayed here.”

He lets out a breath and catches his eye. “He would have stayed though, if I’d asked him too.” Sam meets his gaze, and Bucky breathes in. “I knew he would have stayed if I’d asked, so I didn’t.” He nods decisively, his gaze firm. “I’d seen Steve get swallowed up by Captain America, and by everything else, and I’d seen how it wore on him, and here he was, finally trying to give himself a break...”

His mouth turns up in a rueful gesture. “And he would have given that up if I’d asked him to.”

He shakes his head and looks down, his eyes pensive as he looks at the gun rack. “I couldn’t ask that of him though,” he says quietly. “It…it _is_ a loss. And I wish we’d had more time where neither of us were dead or dying but…” He breathes in. “But Steve finally got to go home. And I don’t mean because he went to the 40s. Steve got to be just Steve again, like how he wanted, and he couldn’t do that here, not in the same way.” 

His mouth pulls up into a smile, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. “’Course, I know that he didn’t just give up on fightin’ for what he believed in in whatever place he was. That wouldn't be Steve Rogers. But I doubt it was in the same way. He had things to say, and with the serum, people would listen to him. He didn’t need guns, or a shield.”

Sam nods at him. “He and Peggy must have been a pair.”

Bucky lets out a breathy laugh. “No kidding,” he murmurs, a bright gleam in his eye. “Peggy wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Sam watches him for a moment and rolls his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “What about you?” he asks, calling Bucky’s gaze again. “You didn’t want to go with him? I bet they would have let you.”

Bucky’s mouth twitches and he looks down at his metal hand. “Steve asked me that too,” he says after a moment. “I…” he shrugs. “I thought about it,” he looks up. “But I decided against it.”

He shifts his stance a little and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like Steve, I didn’t really intend to fight forever. And after Hydra, I didn’t want to fight at all for a while, but…” he tilts his head his eyes brightening. “But I _did_ get a chance to rest and recuperate. I had time in Wakanda to not fight. And now, I think there are still things that need to be done. I’m not ready to stop just yet.”

Sam’s eyes trail down to Bucky’s metal arm for a moment, and he wonders how much of his conviction stems from a desire to make up for what he did under Hydra. Looking at him, he thinks that that is part of it, but there is a light in Bucky’s eyes that makes him think that it isn’t _all_ of it.

In front of him, Bucky sets his shoulders and catches his gaze. “Besides, I think Steve would do better taking up a cause in the 40s then me. I’m still figuring out how to live here. Going back would be like trying to figure it all out as an old copy of myself. It wouldn’t be _me_ living back there, and I think Steve understood that.”

Sam nods slowly. In a sense, Bucky and Steve are the same. Steve couldn’t live as his full self here, and Bucky can’t live as his full self back then.

It is tragic, thinking about how the war and Hydra had shaped them like this. They are like two branches from a tree that had broken off and drifted down two different rivers. By the time they had come back together again, they had been warped and twisted and worn down in different directions. They would forever be from the same tree, and they would forever be part of each other, but circumstances had pulled them down two different streams.

“But,” he looks up as Bucky continues. “I’m happy that Steve got his chance to live like he wanted to. And now that he is here—for however long he lives on—he can see me grow into myself too.” He shrugs away at the emotional admission, but quirks his mouth up at him.

“It is different than how we ever thought it was going to be, but it is enough, I think.”

Sam lets out a breath as Bucky finishes up. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I guess I’ll miss the days we could have had… But we can make the best with what we’ve got. And,” his eyes meet Bucky’s, “I think we’ll be able to take back Captain America for ourselves this time.”

Bucky nods at him, his mouth curling up. “That,” he says emphatically, “is something I’m looking forward to watching.” 

**Author's Note:**

> When I first watched Endgame, Steve ending was hard to swallow. I thought it was good that he gave the shield to Sam, and I understood why the writers needed to write Steve out of the story, but I wished that, if they were going to do it this way, that they had done it a little better.
> 
> In the end, I still think the writers could have done Steve’s exit better, but I wanted to write a fic were neither Bucky or Sam are resentful of Steve, because they have more context. I don’t know what will happen in tfatws, but I hope neither of them are upset at Steve, and that is what I wanted to portray here. 
> 
> I think, in the 40s, Steve still worked hard for what he thought was right, but he got to do it fully on his own terms for the first time in a while. That is what I think he was looking for, and I wanted to show Sam and Bucky understanding that too.
> 
> My tumblr:[16woodsequ](https://16woodsequ.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
